


Growing Roots

by childoflightning



Series: just keep stumbling forward (baby im waiting for you) [5]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: ADHD Roman Sanders, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Has PTSD, Autistic Logic | Logan Sanders, Communication, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders is a Good Friend, Friendship, Gaslighting, Gen, Hurt Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Lack of Communication, Manipulation, Miscommunication, Patton has Chronic Pain, Patton is Disabled, Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, Roman Makes Mistakes, Roman is Muslim, Virgil Makes Mistakes, Virgil has a Service Dog, its undiagnosed but he def is, rsd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-01-25 18:54:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21361036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/childoflightning/pseuds/childoflightning
Summary: A plant, much like friendship, doesn’t grow in a day. To grow, a plant requires the right nutrients, proper soil conditions, and correct lighting to grow to its full potential. Even with this perfect balance, not every plant makes it. A friendship is much more delicate, and a lot more complex.Or: How exactly did Roman and Virgil become friends?
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: just keep stumbling forward (baby im waiting for you) [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1322924
Comments: 87
Kudos: 412





	1. Radicle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt:  
If you need an idea/suggestion for a oneshot, you know that weird grey area during the beginning of a friendship where you start to talk more but are still a bit unsure about boundaries or how often to text and stuff? That concept but with lamp (any pairing) -anon
> 
> **TW: PTSD, Manipulation (perceived), Harmful Assumptions, Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, Shame**  
In Depth TW in End Notes

Roman was trying to not be unreasonably excited, and failing miserably. Look, college… college maybe hadn’t been the best so far, okay?

He had thought moving to Florida and getting away from the absolute hellhole that was Utah would be a relief. And in many ways, it had been.

For example, he could actually attend congregation for Jumu’ah. With the Friday prayer being just after noon, Roman had never had the chance to attend regularly before. He had fought enough battles when he first moved to Utah to be able to pray at school at all. Trying to figure out a way that he could go to mosque around school hadn’t even been a battle he had tried to fight.

When he hadn’t been an adult, Jumu’ah hadn’t mattered as much to Roman. Children, while welcome, were excused from the Friday prayer. But the minute that Roman had turned 18, the minute it had become an expectation, it became important to him. Islam was his center, and Jumu’ah meant something to him. Not being able to attend had been hard.

Attending college- which proved him with a much more flexible schedule- in Florida- which was a lot better about the idea of ‘religious freedom’ than Utah had been- had been a relief. But it was a relief Roman was expecting. What he hadn’t been expecting was the loneliness.

Roman was lonely.

He thought it was perhaps childish. He was an adult. He didn’t need people. Sure, he wanted them around, but again he was an adult. If he really wanted friends that bad, he could fucking make some. (He hadn’t).

Well until Virgil (and Roman still couldn’t believe that was actually the Incredible Sulk's name) had been annoying again in class and Roman had fallen off his desk and then had to go to the Health Center. On his way, he ran into Patton and well, the rest was history.

Roman maybe had friends now. Hard maybe. He knew Patton was his friend- the guy wouldn’t let him forget it- and he thought Logan and him were on good terms.

Virgil- Virgil was another story. He was rude and annoying and always seemed to be in control. Patton seemed to never disagree with him. Ever. Roman thought that was a little more than unfair. He didn’t get why Virgil’s wants were put before everyone else’s.

But that wasn’t the point. The point was that Roman had at least one friend now. And, for the third week in a row, he had been invited to movie night. Something he was absolutely, utterly thrilled about. Which was maybe just a little bit too extra of a response because it was literally just a normal evening with friends. Totally, completely, utterly normal movie night.

That was- until Virgil ruined it.

They had decided to stick to animated films tonight, after what was last week's disastrous attempt at Star Wars. It did nothing to help Roman’s excitement. “Animation” was a broad term, but they tended to default to Disney for the most part. Patton had unsurprisingly been a fan and Logan didn’t seem to mind Disney over any other animation. Virgil had been the surprising one. Roman had been expecting him to protest, but was shocked to find Virgil agreeing easily. But he’d take it.

The thing Roman had expected to be a problem hadn’t been one at all. No, it had been a much more minor issue that Virgil had blown up at.

“No,” Virgil said immediately.

“Okay,” Patton agreed easily. He slid the movie to the side into “outvoted” pile.

“What,” Roman protested “C’mon, _Cinderella’s_ a classic.”

“We’re not watching it,” Virgil insisted, tone offering no room for any sort of debate.

See! This was Roman meant. Virgil would decide something for the group completely himself with no input from others.

“Uh, I’m pretty sure we agreed to vote,” Roman argued, sliding his hand back over to put the disc firmly in the shrinking “undecided” pile.

“Okay, then I’m no,” Virgil replied.

Then, he moved his hand, sliding the disc back to the “outvoted” pile without even waiting for anyone else’s answer.

“We _all_ vote,” Roman insisted.

Virgil shrugged, leaned back, and waited. This was what Roman meant! The absolute arrogance Virgil had, as if the rest of the groups opinions didn’t matter at all.

“I’m- I’m gonna agree with Virge,” Patton said. He proceeded to avoid Roman’s gaze. Which was a bit redundant considering Patton wasn’t pulling anything different. He always sided with Virgil. Always. Roman got that he was the new person in the group, but Patton would even side with Virgil over Logan or even his very own opinions. It was honestly ridiculous.

“I’ll support that as well,” Logan agreed, barely looking up from his book.

Logan’s quick agreement was less expected but still quite common. Roman didn’t understand it. Logan could either cave quickly and easily without a fight, or completely go against Virgil. It was often the first, but the second still happened, and Roman didn’t get why. Roman couldn’t figure out Logan’s pattern of caving to Virgil. Sometimes, like this, it would be a simple movie. But other times things were more serious or important but Logan would cave just as quickly. And sometimes he’d disagree with Virgil on the simplest things. It didn’t make sense.

“Okay,” Virgil said, “We voted. We’re not watching it.”

For some reason that was Roman’s tipping point.

“Sure we did, _totally_ voted,” Roman said, making sure to lay the sarcasm on thick.

Patton frowned and turned to him.

“What do you mean? We voted. Wasn’t that what you wanted?” he asked.

“Yes, yes exactly Patton!” Roman agreed, throwing his arms up, “I want a vote. An actual vote. Not Virgil deciding something and everyone just doing what he says. You and Logan don’t have to do what he says y’know.”

“We don’t,” Logan and Patton said at the same time. Virgil stayed suspiciously quiet.

“Uh yeah, you do,” Roman argued. He may have only known the three of them for just over a month, but the examples were numerous, “Virgil didn’t want to go to lunch the other week, so we didn’t. A few days before that and we were all going to go stargazing and Virgil refused. Another time we canceled plans to study. Before that, another movie was vetoed.” Roman turned to Virgil. “It’s everything. Again and again and again. You decided you just don’t want to do something and then you expect everyone else to agree with you. You don’t get to decide everything Virgil. That’s just not fair.”

“Virgil was uncomfortable doing those things,” Logan commented as he closed his book, “I don’t see what the problem is.”

“Uncomfortable?” Roman asked, “_Uncomfortable_? Seriously that’s the best you could go with? Virgil just doesn’t want to be a team player and do things that aren’t necessary his first choice like watching a stupid fucking movie. There’s nothing ‘uncomfortable’ about it!”

Why couldn’t any of them see it? It was so obvious to Roman.

It wasn’t fair that Virgil got to make every choice and every decision in the group. That wasn’t being a good friend. It was unhealthy. Roman liked Patton and Logan and they seemed like smart people so he wasn’t quite sure why the didn’t see how unhealthy that was. How unhealthy it was for one sole person to be dictating every interaction the had. How unhealthy it was for one person to set rules in the group that everyone else wasn’t allowed to question. Virgil was literally restricting fucking movie choices. That wasn’t healthy.

Roman was jolted back to the present as Virgil stood quickly. His dog pawed at his leg.

“I’m not dealing with this,” he claimed, “I’m out.”

“Seriously?” Roman demanded, standing as well, “Are you fucking kidding me? You can’t handle being called out for one fucking second-”

Virgil ignored him and attempted to slip past him on his way to the door.

Which Roman was not having. Virgil could face his actions for once.

(Because this was another pattern, Virgil dipping out immediately once things began to get even a little heated).

So Roman grabbed his shoulder.

Virgil jerked back as if he had been burned, breathing heavily. His dog jerked her head up and moved from Virgil’s side in front of him.

“Don’t touch me,” Virgil warned, a growl sitting in his throat. Roman didn’t have time to act before Virgil was moving again. The door slammed shut behind him.

Roman scoffed at the childish action and turned back to the room.

He didn’t like what he found. Logan was still sitting but Patton was standing now. Logan’s body was tight and tense, hands firm on his book. Roman remembered that he didn’t like loud noises. He’d work on that.

Patton was a different story. Patton looked furious, a fire burning in his eyes.

“What was that!” he demanded. Roman didn’t think he’d ever seen Patton this angry before. His brow wrinkled.

“Uh, me telling Virgil that he needs to stop being to controlling?”

“He’s- he’s not being controlling Roman!” Patton protested.

“Did we not just have this talk?” Roman scoffed. How could they not see how obviously manipulative Virgil was being?

“Yes, yes we did,” Patton hissed. His voice was quiet but powerful, compelling Roman to listen. “We did just have this talk and Logan told you that he was not controlling, but uncomfortable. I thought you would respect that. Guess I had higher expectations for you.”

Roman took a step back as his heart clenched. That comment had stung more than he was willing to admit.

“But he’s not uncomfortable,” Roman protested, “He’s just complaining about nothing. He refused to watch a fucking Disney movie because he didn’t want to and then manipulated all of you to agree with him. How is that okay?”

“He’s not doing any of that,” Patton insisted, “He was uncomfortable and didn’t want to watch it. We can respect that. He’s not manipulating us at all, we’re just giving him basic respect.”

“Respect about what? You keep saying he’s uncomfortable, but he’s not. And then he just storms out without even having a conversation. Like I said, he’s manipulating you and you need to realize that because it’s not healthy Patton-”

Logan shifted, and spoke up, cutting off Roman, “How do you know Virgil’s not uncomfortable?”

The new voice as well as the change in argument caught Roman’s attention.

“What?” he asked, caught off guard.

“How do you know Virgil’s not uncomfortable,” Logan repeated.

“I-” Roman defended, “Well it doesn’t make sense for him to be.”

“Patton is scared of spiders even though they help control pest levels, ultimately being useful to humanity. That doesn’t make sense,” Logan said.

“Well that does make sense,” Roman argued, “lots of people are scared of spiders.”

“So what you’re saying- and please Roman, correct me if I’m wrong- is that while there is no logical reason to fear spiders, many people still fear them. And you consider spiders an acceptable thing to be uncomfortable of, not because of logic, but because they are a common thing to fear.”

“...Yes.”

“And therefore the things that make Virgil uncomfortable aren’t valid because they happen to be uncommon fears?”

“That’s, not. I didn’t say that,” Roman protested.

“You didn’t directly," Logan agreed, “I could be over-analyzing this conversation. I’m sorry if that’s the case. But from what I have seen, that seems to be exactly what you’re saying.”

Which wasn’t fair. Roman wasn’t saying Virgil’s level of comfort valid. He was just saying that Virgil wasn’t actually uncomfortable and just being a dick.

But to Logan’s point- maybe the things that made Virgil uncomfortable were just less common the most. Maybe Virgil wasn’t demanding they agree with him. Maybe Logan and Patton weren’t caving easily like he thought.

Maybe everyone was just respecting Virgil’s boundaries.

And Roman hadn’t.

Shit.

“I should- I should probably apologize, shouldn’t I?”

“Yes,” Patton said. Logan nodded in agreement.

Well that was that then.

“Let’s, let’s finish movie night?” Patton suggested, “I doubt Virgil’s coming back and he’ll probably want space until at least tomorrow.”

Roman could feel the guilt creeping in. Which was fair. He should feel guilty.

The problem was, the shame followed right behind it, and the shame wasn’t good.

Guilt was taking responsibility for his actions that caused problems or distressed. Guilt was often natural and urged change when you made mistakes.

Shame was painful distress and self-consciousness. Instead of filtering into outward change like guilt, shame focused on inward spiraling and failure of self.

They were hard feelings to separate, and for Roman the process had always seemed harder than for most.

He had probably ruined everything now. Patton, Logan, and Virgil had known each other longer than he had. Sure, Virgil might have known them much longer, but he still had seniority by a long shot. Plus, even if Roman had known them for longer, he was the one in the wrong here.

“I can- I can go,” Roman offered.

“But then it’s not really movie night anymore,” Patton commented.

“Yeah. But I-”

“Roman,” Logan interjected, “You made a mistake. You have now made a commitment to work it out. You are our friend, and it is movie night. You are welcome to stay.”

Yeah, Roman got that. He just didn’t get _why_ the were allowing him to stay, _why_ they were still friends after he had messed _everything_ up.

“Okay. Okay sure.”

He sat down and they carried on with the evening. But while the evening might have continued, Roman lost his excitement as his mind stayed stuck in the past.

Later, he’d apologize to Virgil, who would accept with a cautious smile. Roman would become more aware of his actions and Virgil’s boundaries and work to shift and respect those.

Things would get better.

Roman wouldn’t notice how it got better. He wouldn’t notice how he respected Virgil more. He wouldn’t notice him reevaluating his assumptions and stepping back. He wouldn’t notice how he became more considerate.

No, all he’d notice would be all the mistakes. The time when he’d said the wrong words, or did the wrong thing, and somehow fucked everything up.

He’d just notice how he never seemed to get things right with Virgil.

How he could _never_ get things right at _all_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TW: PTSD** (Virgil has PTSD and deals with its symptoms), **Manipulation (perceived)** (Roman wrongly thinks that Virgil is manipulative), **Harmful Assumptions** (Roman makes assumptions about Virgil’s behavior that hurt everyone involved), **Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria** (Roman struggles with RSD, even if he’s unaware that’s what it is), **Shame** (Roman struggles with feelings of shame)
> 
> Oh my, am I excited for this new installment, I hope y’all are as excited as me. Roman starts out as a bit of an ass in this, but he’s super quick to change so don’t worry. He means well and tries his best. Plus there's also quite a few things Virgil could have handled differently as well. We'll get there. I promise.  
~childoflightning
> 
> My tumblr is [thechildoflightning](https://thechildoflightning.tumblr.com/). Feel free to send in asks and prompts, keep updated, and see extra stuff involved with this series.


	2. Plumule

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TW: PTSD, Flashback, Pet Death (past), Assumptions, Aggressive Male, Unsafe Situation, Lack of Consent, Date Rape Drugs (past), Sexual Assault/Abuse/Rape (mentioned) **  
In Depth TW in End Notes

Roman would be the first to admit that things were not the best between Virgil and him. It was all to clear, but Roman was trying to fix that, okay? He really, really was. The main issue that continuously thwarted Roman’s plans at friendship was that sometimes Virgil would get angry for no reason at all. Roman was doing his best to respect Virgil’s boundaries and what made him uncomfortable, but it was made pretty difficult when Virgil wasn’t willing to share most of those boundaries with him.

At this point, Roman pretty much knew three rules for dealing with Virgil: one- don’t touch Virgil without consent (even for the smallest things like a hand on the shoulder or bumping him gently); two- if Trixie was bugging Virgil, Roman needed to leave them both alone (sometimes Virgil would just take a breath, but other times he would slide to the ground and Trixie would clamor on top of him); three- if Virgil says ‘no’ that’s it, that’s the decision and there would be no arguing it (Virgil would only say no to things that made him uncomfortable and would instead say things like ‘I don’t want to’ or ‘I would prefer’ for things he had no real issue with but still didn’t want to do).

Roman did his best to respect those three rules. The problem was, there were a lot of things that didn’t quite fit into those categories that made it a lot harder for Roman to navigate the treacherous waters of being Virgil’s maybe-sorta-kinda-working on it friend. (Last week Virgil had freaked out over some hot tea. The week before he had requested that Patton didn’t leave out his Anatomy book when he came over).

Roman didn’t get Virgil. But he was trying to. Which made tonight the perfect night, while also the absolute worse.

Tonight was Movie in the Quad. Logan, Patton, Virgil, and Roman himself had all been planning to go. In the end, Patton and Logan canceled last minute, due to the fact that Patton was having a bad pain day. Virgil and Roman had immediately offered to come over instead, so that Patton didn’t have to leave his room. After Logan had prompted him to be honest with what he needed and wanted, Patton had refused their request citing the need for space and rest.

Logan’s insistence at Patton’s honesty made Roman wonder how often Patton had lied about his pain levels and needs before. He vowed to work on being more observant in the future.

Patton had also insisted that Roman and Virgil still go see the movie, since all four of them had been looking forward to it. Considering it was Patton insisting and it was pretty impossible to tell him no, Roman and Virgil had both hesitantly agreed and committed to still going

This was where the chance to get to know Virgil better came in. The problem- Roman and Virgil has never really talked without the presence of Logan and Patton around, making the interaction extremely awkward.

But it was a little too late to back out.

Roman had spread out a blanket early on and sprawled across it. Virgil met up with him a few minutes later, hands fiddling with the short leash on Trixie. He had joined Roman on the blanket, but had elected to sit in the furthest corner away from him. Virgil then had Trixie lie down next to him, and she settled her head in his lap.

If Virgil wasn’t such a grouch, Roman might call it adorable.

So there the two of them were, awkwardly on the same blanket waiting for the movie to start. (Which was looking to be awhile because at first the projector had been too low and then it had a weird tilt and then for some reason the image was flipped upside down and now it didn’t seem to be working at all and they were trying to fix it).

Around them, people chatted to pass the time. Virgil and Roman seemed to be outliers, instead giving each other awkward looks and refusing to talk. Roman decided to make an attempt and go with the less creepy version of the ‘adorable’ thought.

“Trixie’s really cute,” he mentioned.

Virgil’s head jerked up to him, as if completely caught off guard by Roman talking to him.

Come on, it couldn’t be that weird that Roman was instigating conversation between them, right? Roman had started a conversation between the two of them before, hadn’t he?

(He couldn’t remember a single time he had).

“Oh,” Virgil said with a smile, as he looked down at his dog. He petted her a few times and she thumped her tail on the ground. “Yeah, she is pretty cute isn’t she?”

Roman hummed and wondered where to go from there.

Luckily, he didn’t have to figure it out, because Virgil was doing that for him.

“Y’know, she has this one spot on her- Here, just come here for a second, yeah?”

Bits of curious confusion stumbled through Roman’s brain, but he shrugged and did as requested.

Virgil said the word, “Break,” and Trixie’s entire demeanor changed. She didn’t actually do anything different- besides roll onto her side at Virgil’s instruction- but she seemed completely changed. Roman had never seen her seem so much like, well, like a dog before. Which was weird considering she was a dog, but that was the best way he could describe her demeanor in that moment.

“Hand?” Vigil requested, holding his own out.

Roman shrugged, but dropped his hand onto Virgil’s. He noted that the other boys was surprisingly warm. Roman thought he would of ran cold. It just seemed like a Virgil thing. Guess he was wrong.

Virgil placed his hand on Trixie’s lower belly before moving it quickly from side to side, effectively petting Trixie with Roman’s hand.

Instantly, the dog’s hind leg came up to shake and thump, as if scratching herself in mid air.

A surprised laugh escaped Roman and a grin raced across his mouth. Virgil offered his own smile in return. He removed his own hand, and let Roman continue to let her by himself. He continued to do so with dedication, attention completely focused on the dog’s leg.

A minute later, and the abnormal movement stopped.

Roman frowned, admittedly disappointed. Virgil just laughed, rolled his eyes, and moved Roman’s hand slightly, before nodding for him to continue.

Roman did so, and was excited to see Trixie’s behavior return.

When Roman finally got bored, he stopped petting the pup quite as rigorously and moved to give her long stroking pets instead. Her tongue hung out of her mouth and she twisted a bit to move more into her back, her legs suspended in midair.

Virgil rolled eyes at the behavior.

“Yeah, you like that don’t you girl? Yeah, you do. Roman spoils you, huh? Spoils you with all the belly rubs?” he teased her.

Trixie made a little huffing noise and closed her eyes in pure bliss. Virgil laughed. Roman found the sound surprising and nice. Separate adjectives. Not surprisingly nice, surprising and nice. In fact, Roman would have bet money on Virgil’s laugh being adorable.

He blushed and continued to pet Trixie. He accidentally hit the same spot on her lower belly, causing her to kick her hind leg a few times again.

“Yeah, she’s done that since she was a pup. Dolly would do it on occasion, but she wasn’t quite as sensitive or really ever had like, a specific place that would get her to do that. Trix has always had that one spot.”

As Virgil explained, an expression Roman hadn’t seen crossed his face. His smile was sweeter than normal and his voice was soft and fond.

Roman had never seen Virgil nostalgic before. He thought that was maybe what this was.

“Dolly?” he questioned, because he hadn’t recognized that name.

“Yeah, Dolly was my first service dog.”

“You had a service dog before Trixie?” Roman asked, a fair amount of shock coating his words.

He didn’t know why he was shocked. He had thought- well Roman hadn’t known what he had thought. Roman knew Virgil was different. He was pretty sure that Trixie wasn’t for any sort of physical disability or illness or something, which meant that Trixie had to be for something mental.

Roman also knew that service dogs were a pretty serious thing. He knew that. At the same time, he hadn’t ever really taken the time to consider that Virgil having Trixie probably meant something fairly serious. Again, Roman had known something was different about Virgil, but he had also kinda expected- he didn’t even know- Virgil to change or something? To move on? Roman hadn’t really considered that whatever was going on with Virgil would potentially be a lifelong thing. The mention of another service dog made a lot of things click into place.

Roman should not of needed evidence to realize any of this. He should not of needed proof of longer support through a previous service dog. He should not have expected Virgil to change or move on. But he hadn’t known, hadn’t realized. But he knew now. He could respect that. He could change his behavior (again, because Roman could never seem to get it _right_ because he really was that much of an absolute _failure_ at this whole thing and sure he was trying but did that even matter if _it didn’t change anything_?)

“Yeah,” Virgil said, “Yeah Dolly was actually my first service dog. She uh- she actually just passed away a few months ago.”

“Oh,” Roman said. His hand stilled on Trixie. “Uh, sorry.”

Virgil shrugged and curled in on himself.

“Is what it is,” he offered. His voice was toneless and the sentence dry. Roman felt like he should offer something here. He just wasn’t really sure what.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Virgil sighed and a hand gripping the sleeve of his hoodie came up to wipe at his eyes.

“No,” Virgil said, “No. It’s okay. I’ve- I’ve like, come to terms with it. It’s not a big deal anymore. It’s just… It just makes me sad sometimes.”

“I think I get that,” Roman validated, “My mom- well she was already sick, but she died giving birth to me. I never knew her, y’know? But every once and awhile, I just get, sad about it.”

Virgil nodded in what was probably agreement or understanding.

He opened his mouth to say something more, but just then, there was a loud whoop from the crowd. Both Roman and Virgil’s heads shot up, and they caught sight of the opening credits on the large white screen the school was projecting the movie onto. They got the projector fixed then. Good.

With that, the music started to blare, and Roman and Virgil settled in to watch.

It was about an hour in that Roman had to pee. He got up, and turned to leave, before catching sight of Virgil’s face.

The other boy- who had taken to cuddling with his dog just moments ago- was now half sitting up and gazing after Roman, mouth slightly open.

“Just headed to the bathroom,” Roman remarked.

Virgil hesitated. Trixie shifted slightly, settling her head on one of Virgil’s legs. His gaze moved towards her, before looking back up at Roman.

“Okay,” Virgil said, “See you in a minute.”

Roman nodded and turned to leave, expecting to do exactly that.

He did not see Virgil in a minute, because just as he was headed back across the lawn to rejoin Virgil after using the restroom, he ran into a guy, quite literally.

The guy stumbled a few steps before catching his balance. Roman apologized, half holding a hand out in some attempt at help. The guy’s gaze dropped to it, and seemed to note the rainbow bracelet Roman wore on his wrist.

“It’s alright sweetheart,” the guy slurred a little, and Roman was immediately put off.

The man was obviously more than a little buzzed, which made Roman a bit uneasy in the first place. The second issue was the way that the guy had started eyeing him. Roman wasn’t one to mind being checked out, but something about how this guy did it was just off and made Roman’s skin crawl.

“Hi,” Roman said, voice curt, “Sorry, you’ll have to excuse me, I’m trying to get back to my friend.”

The guy laughed and Roman’s body started to feel a little heavier than normal.

“Noooo,” he whined, “Don’t worry about your friend right now. You’ve got me! And I can be quite good company, if you know what I mean.” He threw in a wink that sent Roman’s stomach rolling.

“Sorry,” Roman insisted, “I really do need to be going.” He turned away, knowing that staying in this situation any longer wouldn’t do him any good.

“Hey!” the guy shouted, and then Roman felt a hand grasping his wrist.

Roman had always been a flirt, he would admit that freely. He enjoyed it, but he also only enjoyed it when it was consensual. Usually that meant that Roman- as the flirtee- would need to make sure that the guy he was flirting with was comfortable with said flirting.

In this case, the tables were turned, and this guy certainly didn’t seem to care about Roman’s comfort levels or consent. This wasn’t flirting or showing interest. This was being inappropriate, and creepy, and borderline dangerous.

“Please let me go.”

His voice came out as a whisper, and he was- quite frankly- disappointed in himself, even if he wasn’t the one that should be feeling any shame in that moment.

“C’mon, at least tell me your name, pretty thing. Don’t I deserve that at the very least?” the guy asked. His gaze was unfocused, but stiff as steel, and it was then Roman regret not taking a single self-defense course in his life. The man might have been drunk, but he had a firm grip on Roman’s wrist, and he was much bigger and stronger than Roman. Roman was tall but had never been extremely athletic. He had never regretted it until now.

“Come on, honey,” the stranger cooed, “Your name?”

Roman didn’t know what to do.

“Let go of him,” a new voice demanded, stepping into the fray. Roman blinked a few times because- because it was _Virgil_.

“No need to worry,” the creeper purred, turning his attention to Virgil, “Everything’s fine here, right darling?” He shot an expectant gaze towards Roman.

“Let go of me,” Roman insisted once more.

The man didn’t.

“You heard him,” Virgil said.

“And if I don’t?” The guy asked, sizing Virgil up. If Roman was smaller than this guy, than Virgil was tiny compared to them; this guy would overpower him in a heartbeat. The guy seemed to know it as well because his grip didn’t loosen and his smile refused to drop.

“You don’t want to find out,” Virgil threatened.

The guy then had the gall to laugh, which was the exact moment numerous things happen.

With the lack of focus on him, Roman was able to twist away from the man and free his arm. At almost the exact same time, Virgil planted himself firmly between Roman and the stranger and threw a well-aimed punch, setting him stumbling back a few paces in surprise. As he did so, Virgil yelled one singular word as loud as he could.

“FIRE!” he screeched.

Everyone turned to look their way, muttering voices looking for the danger. The man, who had recovered from Virgil’s shove, stopped in his pursuit back towards him as over a hundred eyes turned to stare at them. He scowled and stalked away. People also started to glance away, now eased by the knowledge that was definitely no fire. Roman wasn’t even sure if any of them had noticed what had happened.

Speaking of…

“Hey, uh, thanks,” Roman offered, turning back towards Virgil.

Virgil nodded, and Roman realized he was shaking. It was then he realized he was also shaking.

After what seemed to be only a moment later, they were back in Roman’s dorm. Roman knew it had to have been more than a moment but the only thing he could remember was Virgil and him looking at each other and now he was opening his door with his key.

The instant it opened, the two of them plus dog stumbled inside. Roman fell onto his bed, Virgil at his desk.

Roman couldn’t believe what just happened. What had happened? What was going on?

(He was still shaking).

He took a breath, and everything started to fit back into place. He took another and the world slid back into focus. He took a third and he was okay.

He was okay. He was going to be okay.

Thanks to Virgil.

Roman looked up, planning to thank him again now that the situation had calmed down exponentially and Roman wasn’t freaking out quite as much anymore, the adrenaline fading away. He expected Virgil to be in about the same mental state as he was in, but when he caught a glance of him, it was very clear that he was not.

Virgil was crying. Loud, ugly, wheezing, thick crying. Tears and snot and fluids covering his face. Trixie was draped across his lap in his seated position. He didn’t seem to notice her and then he began to scream. Loudly.

Roman winced and fought the urge to cover his ears. He was _loud_.

Virgil was screaming and crying and he was huddled in on himself and Trixie was trying to stay on top of him but it was hard when Virgil was curling up into a ball.

Roman didn’t know what to do.

He _never_ knew what to do.

“Virgil,” he called cautiously.

The boy didn’t respond. He wasn’t quite screaming anymore, but he was loudly begging. For what Roman couldn’t quite be sure because Virgil kept cutting himself off and slurring his words and talking over himself.

Roman knew a pleading tone when he heard one. This went a step further.

Roman hesitated, before getting up and took a step forward, trying to be of some assistance.

Virgil flinched backward violently and Trixie stepped in between them. Virgil also stopped his pleading and turned instead to apologizing.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” the boy whimpered, “I’ll do better. I promise! Just please don’t hurt me. I’m sorry.”

Roman’s heart thudded because those words suggested things he wasn’t quite ready for. He took a step back, hoping that would help.

It didn’t. Virgil continued to apologize. His volume did lower, but Roman had no idea if that was a good thing or not.

Trixie returned to his side and tried to nuzzle apart his hands that had been gripping onto his opposite upper arms.

Roman didn’t know what to do, but trying to help didn’t work, so he decided to wait it out. (Virgil would be okay in a little bit, right? He had to be. Because if he wasn’t, well Roman wasn’t sure what to do next. Should he call someone? A doctor? 911?)

He _should_ call someone, he realized, and he knew _who_ to call as well.

The phone rang twice before a familiar voice picked up.

“Roman. Why are you calling?”

“Hey Specs, so Emo Nightmare’s freaking out and I don’t know what the hell to do,” he blurted out instantly.

If anyone would have a solution, it would have to be Logan, right?

“Okay,” he replied, “What do you mean by freaking out? Also, if you don’t know what to do, you should probably learn.”

“I am trying to learn,” Roman insisted. He ignored the rest of Logan’s words, working on the second half first because that was the part that had stung some place deep inside of him, so it was the part he was going to focus on, “That’s why I called you. I thought you would know what to do.”

“I know you’re trying. I wasn’t suggest that you weren’t, and I apologize if that’s how it came off as. That was not my intention Roman.”

Roman shifted, cast a gaze back at Virgil who was still giving pleading apologies.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

“I can try to help. What’s going on?”

“He’s- he’s. I don’t even know. He’s not looking at me and doesn’t seem to even realize I’m here. He’s curled up in a corner and apologizing and asking to not be hurt. I tried approaching him but that made it worse.”

“Is Trixie with him?”

“Yeah?”

“What is she doing?”

“Uh, at first she tried to like, sorta jump and lay on top of him? And then when I tried to approach him she stood in front of him. I backed away and she went back to him and was nudging his arms. He’s curled up, so she can’t lay on him anymore, but she is pawing and nudging him.”

“Okay. I think Virgil’s having a flashback.”

“A flashback?”

“Yes- a flashback is a disturbing immersive memory that can cause extreme panic while seeming completely real and current to the person experiencing it,” Logan rattled off.

“No, no, Logan I know what a flashback _is_ I just don’t know why _Virgil_ is having one.”

“Well they can happen to anyone that experiences a distressing enough experience, but is often common in those who have dealt with intense trauma or have PTSD.”

“Yeah but Virgil hasn’t- I mean, _Virgil_?”

“I couldn’t tell you which category Virgil falls into, but I probably could form an educated guess, though that is not important right now. The important thing is that he is having a flashback.”

Which he still was. Roman was expecting this whole phone conversation to much quicker and for this situation to be much easier.

“Okay so what do I do?”

“Was there a triggering incident?”

“A what?” Roman asked.

“A triggering incident,” Logan repeated, “Something that may have been a catalyst for Virgil’s current state.”

“Uh, I mean yeah,” Roman said. Because they clearly had been. A guy had gotten handsy and aggressive with Roman in a situation that implied-

Holy shit had Virgil been in a situation like that before? Was that why he was freaking out? Had Virgil been- had Virgil been assaulted before? Had he been sexually abused? Raped?

More and more suggestions filled Roman’s head, each one as unpleasant as the last.

It would explain his fear and apologies. It would also explain why he freaked out when Roman got closer. It explained the dog at his side. It explained almost everything.

“Okay, well if you can identify the trigger, you need to remove it if it hasn’t already been removed. From there you need to approach the flashback with that trigger in mind. Try to avoid triggering Virgil again. That can help stop the progression of the flashback. To actually help soothe or stop the flashback, Virgil will need to be grounded in reality. Grounding techniques like reminders of the present and breathing exercises can help immensely. I can send you a few things, give me a minute.”

Roman held his breath.

Virgil continued to cry and apologize and how long had he been doing that now? It had to have been a long time now. Jeez, what had Virgil been through?

Roman’s phone buzzed a second later. He pulled it away from his ear and looked down to see a text from Logan. He pressed the phone back to his ear and promised to check it in a minute.

“I suggest starting with one of those. If it doesn’t help, or if you feel like you need more assistance, call me back. I can come over if you need me to. I also sent over crisis lines if things get worse for any reason. In most cases I would recommended calling one of those lines before calling the police or similar services. The police can be- well they aren’t exactly trained in this area and might not be able to help Virgil. Plus, they make assumptions, and Roman you are a Muslim man with a white-passing guy panicking in your dorm room.”

“Yeah got it, no police. But, uh what do you mean if things get worse?”

“If things get too much for you to handle. If Virgil severely injures himself. If he passes out and doesn’t immediately regain consciousness. If he gets violent due to a perceived threat. If you at any point feel threatened or that harm could come to you. If things get unsafe, then you need to call one of the lines, okay? Some have different purposes, read what they’re for.”

“Okay,” Roman agreed, “Okay. I’m gonna try and help Virgil now.”

“Sounds good,” Logan said.

“Okay, okay bye.”

“Bye, Roman.”

“...Thanks.”

“You are welcome.”

The line went dead.

Roman sighed, and checked the massive text Logan had sent, scrolling through it.

Virgil let out a loud gasp and continued to cry in the corner. The muttering has gone down somewhat but he still seemed largely unaware of his surroundings.

Roman clicked one of the links that looked promising. Here went nothing.

“Uh, Virgil?” he said.

The boy looked towards him for a second before glancing back towards the floor, eyes distant and chest heaving. But it was recognition, which was more than Roman had gotten so far.

“Hey uh, can you do me a favor? I think, I think it might help you.”

Virgil’s mouth moved. At first Roman thought it was a response to his question, but then he realized that the boy had just taken to muttering his apologies under his breath instead of out loud.

“Uh,” Roman said. Should he still do it? Roman was sure if Virgil would be able to do it considering it didn’t really seem exactly here. But Roman had to try something. “Uh,” he repeated, “Uh can you, Virgil can you name five- is it five?” He checked his phone. “Yeah five things you see?”

What was this bullshit? Five things Virgil saw? How was that supposed to help. Especially when he seemed to not even be aware of where he was or what he was doing. Who came up with this shit?

“Floor,” a voice mumbled, “Dog… Bed. Desk… Person.”

Roman blinked. That was five things. Virgil had just listed five things. Was this working?

“Uh, four things you can touch?” Roman asked, after reviewing the article on his phone.

“Jacket,” Virgil started. He shifted his hand, letting it fall onto Trixie. “Trixie.” He let his hand travel further down her back. “Trixie’s vest.” He reached up to touch his own face. “Tears.”

It was working. Virgil still didn’t seem well and he was still crying, but it was a definite step forward from whimpering like a wounded animal. Roman couldn’t believe that this was working.

“Yeah. Uh that’s really good Virgil. Three things, three things you can hear?”

Virgil completed the next task, and together they worked their way down to one. When they did reach one, Virgil’s eyes were much more clear.

“Welcome back,” Roman offered.

For the first time since all of this had begun, Virgil met Roman’s eyes. His face instantly dropped.

“Are you okay?” Virgil’s voice was desperate and demanding.

“Am I okay?” Roman asked incredulously, “What about you?”

“I’m fine,” Virgil insisted, “but uh- I only got there after he grabbed you. Are you- Roman I- Did- Are you okay?”

“Nothing happened,” Roman was quick to confirm, even as his heart thudded harshly is his chest, “I’m fine.” (Something could of happened, he realized, it could have been way worse, and that was a frankly terrifying thought).

Virgil frowned, not believing the rather obvious lie. Which Roman thought was totally unfair because Virgil had said _he_ was fine and Roman was letting _him_ get away with it.

“Roman- You- It’s okay to not be fine after something like that. Even if nothing happened.”

“I was roofied last year,” Roman blurted out, “Theater party. And well,” Roman pointed to himself, “Muslim. Drinking is haram. I don’t do it. So I noticed pretty quick. I- Uh- well I told a friend and he took me home and called my parents. They were out of town so he then also stayed with me the entire time. To make sure I was okay and safe. But things could have been a lot worse. Things tonight could of been a lot worse.”

Virgil nodded, showing zero signs of disagreement. Roman hadn’t been expecting Virgil to disagree, but in a selfish way Roman wished he would have. Because maybe if Virgil told him nothing would have happened and he would have been fine Roman would start to believe it himself.

“Are you okay? Actually?” Roman asked. If Virgil wasn’t going to deal with Roman’s bullshit answer, Roman wasn’t going to accept Virgil’s.

“I will be,” Virgil promised. He hesitates and shoving his hands into his dog’s fur, gripping it softly. “I- I have PTSD. So I- I uh, get flashbacks once in a while and stuff.”

“Oh.”

“Uh yeah,” Virgil said. He then stood, hands tightly gripping the short leash that was attached to Trixie’s vest. “It’s uh late. I should- I should probably go.” Virgil shifted from foot to foot and cast his gaze down.

At the thought of Virgil leaving, Roman’s heart twisted into a knot. From fear, Roman realized. He was afraid. He was afraid to be alone.

Something must have shown on his face, as Virgil spoke back up.

“Or- Uh- I, if you really want I could stay?” He offered.

Roman wasn’t sure why he offered, considering Virgil very obviously did not want to stay. He was probably just being polite.

“No no, I’m fine,” Roman promised, because he wasn’t about to make Virgil do something for him that he didn’t want to do. He wouldn’t waste Virgil’s time an energy like that, especially when Virgil had already done so much for him. “Go back to your dorm. I’ll be fine.”

Virgil hesitated.

“I’m serious,” Roman insisted, “go.”

Virgil hesitated once more, but nodded and left. Roman hadn’t expected any different. Roman didn’t expect Virgil to actually care about him. They weren’t even friends yet, even If Roman was trying.

Roman didn’t sleep that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **In Depth TW: PTSD **(Virgil has PTSD and deals with it's symptoms), **Flashback** (Virgil experiences a flashback and repeats apologies as well as pleading for safety), **Pet Death (past)** (Virgil's old service dog's recent passing is brought up in conversation), **Assumptions** (Roman makes incorrect assumptions about Virgil), **Aggressive Male** (a man behaves aggressively and possessively towards Roman, including by grabbing his wrist), **Unsafe Situation** (A man grabs Roman and provides sexual implications),** Lack of Consent** (Roman is grabbed and hit on withut consent),** Date Rape Drugs (past)** (Roman mentions that he was roofied his senior year of hs), **Sexual Assault/Abuse/Rape (mentioned)** (Implications and discussion of the topic. Roman also assumes Virgil has PTSD due to one or more of the before)
> 
> As always, thanks for reading. And it will get better.  
~childoflightning
> 
> My tumblr is [thechildoflightning](https://thechildoflightning.tumblr.com/). Feel free to send in asks and prompts, keep updated, and see extra stuff involved with this series.


	3. Hypocotyl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TW: PTSD, Intentional Self-Harm (past), Unintentional Self-Harm, RSD, Sucide Attempt (past), Scars, Blood, Islamphobia (mentioned)**  
In Depth TW in End Notes

After that night, Roman thought things between him and Virgil were bound to get better. After all, it’s not like things could get _worse_. In addition, Roman now had a better understanding of Virgil. He knew that Virgil had PTSD and his PTSD had to do with a bad situation where something involving sexual assault (or at least near or relating to it) had happened. He could work with that. He could support Virgil through that.

But things between them didn’t get better, In fact, if anything, Virgil seemed to draw more and more away. The problem was, he wasn’t only drawing away from Roman, but Patton and Logan as well. Roman could understand if Virgil didn’t like him. Roman knew he had fucked up plenty of times. But Patton and Logan were such good people and he couldn’t figure out why Virgil would draw away from them too.

(Maybe it was because Roman was spending more time with them. Maybe Virgil was canceling plans more just to avoid Roman. Maybe Roman should start backing out so Virgil could have the support he needed from Patton and Logan. After all, they were friends first. He was the newest, last member. The least important).

It was as a result of this recent behavior that Virgil’s newest text to Roman came as a surprise.

> V: Can u come over? I have to give u something  
V: It’ll be quick
> 
> R: can it b later? have a class soon
> 
> V: It’ll be quick
> 
> R: is that ur way of saying that it cant wait
> 
> V: ,,,yes?

With a huff, Roman shoved his phone in his pocket and left for Virgil’s dorm, not knowing what was so important that it couldn’t wait two hours. Luckily, his dorm building was only two away from Virgil’s. If he jogged, he could get there quickly, get whatever Virgil had for him, and still make it on time to class.

He did exactly that, coming to a stop outside Virgil’s door with little huffs of breathe to show the fact that he had raced across part of campus. Hopefully this wouldn’t take longer than a minute. Roman really hated to skip class, he struggled with his grades enough as is.

Now at the door, he texted the boy and then knocked, knowing that Virgil wouldn’t answer the door unless he knew who was there.

It wasn’t a long wait, the door quickly twisting open to reveal a disheveled Virgil.

“I need you to take this,” Virgil said, shoving something into his hands almost immediately.

Roman stumbled a bit to keep a steady hold on the item considering he wasn’t really expecting something to be dramatically shoved into his arms.

“Uh, okay,” he said as he readjusted what he could not identify as a locked box in his arms, “What is it?”

“Stuff,” Virgil replied, “Here’s the key. Don’t open it.”

Roman readjusted the box again to grab the key from Virgil.

“So you’re giving me a locked box and the key that goes with it but I’m not allowed to open it?” he questioned.

He shifted from foot to foot, gaze traveling from the box back to Virgil. Because what the hell? What was so important about this damn box that he had to come over right now and take it but wasn’t allowed to know anything about it? He had a class he had to get to! He didn’t have time for mysterious boxes.

“Yes, no opening it,” Virgil agreed, “And you keep it until I want the box back.”

Okay, what? Virgil wasn’t just giving him the box? He wanted it _back_? Roman was box-sitting? _Why_ was Roman box-sitting? What was he supposed to do with _any_ of this?

“Uh, then why are you giving to me?” Roman asked.

Roman thought he had been lost before, but well, now he was even more confused. It reminded him of that show “Naked and Afraid” except the setting was Virgil’s dorm instead of being stranded on an island and a title like “A Box and Vague Words” would probably fit the situation better.

“I can’t have it right now,” Virgil explained. But, no, it wasn’t really an explanation. It was a half-explanation to avoid actually explaining.

“The box?” Roman questioned, “You can’t have the box right now?”

Virgil sighed and rolled his eyes before giving Roman a look like he was stupid. Which was not fair at all. Here Virgil was texting him to come over immediately, demanding he take a box, not telling him what was in, eventually wanting it back, but unable to have it right now. So sue him for being confused. It was a confusing situation!

“What’s in the box,” Virgil attempted to clarify, “I can’t have what’s _in_ the box right now.”

“Well, what’s in the box?”

“Can’t tell you that.”

Of course not. Virgil could just never make things easy, could he.

“Virgil I’m not taking a sketchy locked box from you unless you allow me to open it or you tell me what’s in it.”

“Just take it.”

“No.”

“Roman, I really really really need you to take the box.”

“What’s in the box, Virgil?”

He was raising his voice a bit at this point, something he only noticed when Virgil took a step back and Trixie took a step forward, going into a Block.

Right. Virgil didn’t like yelling.

He took a breath and lowered his volume.

“Sorry,” he said immediately, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Virgil relaxed slightly as he exhaled loudly.

“It’s just- Virgil I’m not taking a random box from you in this weird as fuck situation if you’re not going to tell me what’s in it.”

The boy froze. The previous tension didn’t quite return to his body but he also didn’t relax any further. Instead he just went completely still. He seemed to calculate something in the silence, though Roman had no idea what.

Eventually, he refocused on Roman, and Roman was surprised to find a bit of steel in his eyes.

“The box contains everything sharp I own,” Virgil admitted, his voice small.

Roman blinked.

What?

This was what Virgil couldn’t tell him was in the box? I mean sure it was weird, but not nearly on the level Roman was expecting. Honestly, he didn’t know what he had been expecting. Human organs? Evidence of money laundering? Virgil’s _diary_?

“Well that’s not ominous at all,” Roman offered, “But, uh, why are you giving them to me? Is this some kind of social experiment or something?”

Really. Sharp things? Again, kind of creepy but not what he had been expecting.

Virgil just blinked at him.

Roman stared right back.

Virgil sighed loudly and gave Roman the same look he gave him earlier, like Roman was an idiot or something. He bristled up a bit.

“No. I- Roman. Everything sharp I own,” Virgil repeated. Roman nodded. The better explanation followed, “Everything I could hurt myself with.”

Roman went back to blinking.

“I’m sorry, _what_?” he asked.

“Everything I could hurt myself with,” Virgil repeated, and then he was off, “And I mean, I know I said everything sharp, but it’s not just sharp things. I uh- there’s all my meds in there except for like a week’s dosage so I don’t run out and I threw in some cleaning chemicals and stuff because even though I don’t think I- well it’s just better to be safe, so... Oh! And I couldn’t get rid of everything glass, but all the glass from picture frames because, well, I’ve- in the past- well yeah. Just thought it was better not to have them, y’know?”

Roman just held the box as Virgil’s rambling came to a close.

The speech filtered in but didn’t seem to quite connect.

“What?” Roman asked, “Virge, _why_ would you hurt yourself? Why are you giving me these things?”

Virgil shifted on his feet and his hands came to grasp his elbows. His nails dug in sharply through his hoodie. Trixie whined and nudged his arms away from one another. When his grip loosened, Roman noticed the spots of darker coloration on the jackets arms.

“V-Virgil,” Roman started, heart thrumming in his chest, “Are- are you bleeding?”

A million expressions passed across the older boys face, all to quickly for Roman to decipher even one of them.

“I- Roman I struggle with self-harm. I have for a long time. I- I haven't done it for over a year now. But the urges still presents itself all the time. Usually it’s manageable. Right now it’s less so. That’s why I need you to take the box right now.”

Roman felt like his head was going to explode and his heart was going to leap out of his chest.

“Allahu-” Roman starts, before cutting himself off. He knew what ‘allahu akbar’ means. He knew that in this case it’s just a simple expression to him. He also knew what other people thought of it. He knew that the words are equivalent to ‘terrorist’ in their eyes. How many times had he been called exactly that for much less?

“Virgil,” he restarted, “Virgil did you- are you bleeding? Are you- Virgil did you _hurt_ yourself? You- You’re arms.”

He saw the hoodie and those had to be bloodstains and that meant that Virgil bled through his hoodie and was Virgil _hurting_ himself? Was his friend doing this to his body. They were friends right? I mean, Virgil had come to him and now Roman had to deal with his. His friend was hurting himself so what did he _do_?

“No, no,” Virgil said frantically. He shook his head so hard Roman would be surprised he didn’t get whiplash.

It didn’t do much to cause Roman to relax.

“I didn’t hurt myself,” Virgil promised.

That, on the other hand, did allow Roman to relax a little bit. His shoulders loosened and he felt like he could breathe again.

“I mean, I kind of did hurt myself,” Virgil admitted, “but it wasn’t really on purpose? And it’s not bad!”

Roman was back to being very worried. This whole conversation was making his head spin. He felt like the physical manifestation of a 404 error code.

He wondered if this was what Logan felt like when he got so overwhelmed by everything that he couldn’t talk and had to be left alone for awhile.

Virgil seemed to be able to tell that Roman was completely lost, because he carried on with his explanation.

“Okay so. I don’t self-harm anymore. Or I haven’t for a year. But I’m having the worst urges I’ve had in a while. And I would ask Patton or Logan instead of you-” That stung a bit but was also probably fair. Virgil and him weren’t the closest. “-But they went home yesterday evening because neither of them had classes today and so they left for the three day weekend. And I _am_ bleeding and I _did_ hurt myself but I didn’t _mean_ to. It was unintentional. I was digging my nails in my arms and I don’t mean to but I do that a lot sometimes. Trixie catches it for me. But well, I’ve been doing it a lot recently because things haven’t been the best so I accidentally broke skin and started bleeding. But I didn’t mean to and it’s not bad.”

Okay. That was a lot all at once. Roman worked on focusing on the things he could handle now.

“Virgil, you’re bleeding through your jacket.”

Virgil’s eyes went wide and he turned his arm to look at. He brushed a finger against the blood stain.

Sure, it was a small bloodstain. And Virgil’s jacket wasn’t very thick, worn down by tons of use. But he had bleed through his jacket, which meant that the wound was a little more than a bug bite. It might not be bleeding profusely, and would probably clot pretty quickly, but a band aid would probably still help.

“Do you have band aids?” Roman asked.

Virgil's brow furrowed but he nodded anyways.

Neither of them moved.

“Can- can I come in?” Roman asked.

Even after this long and pretty draining conversation, he was just awkwardly standing right outside of Virgil’s dorm holding a box of all the things Virgil owned that he could hurt himself with.

“I can get a band aid myself,” Virgil insisted.

Roman hesitated.

“I know. But, I’m concerned. Please? It would make me feel better.”

Virgil stood there for a while, shifting in the doorway. Roman could practically see the gears in his mind turning.

“Okay,” he allowed eventually as he moved out of the way of the dorm. Roman entered as Virgil wandered over to a shelf, presumably to grab a band aid. Roman took a seat at the desk off to the side. Trixie sat near him, out of the way but with her eyes on Virgil.

Virgil grabbed a small first aid kit and brought it over. He opened it and pulled out a band aid.

“See, I have band aids, I’m fine,” Virgil insisted as he waved the band aid in Roman’s face.

“Okay, let’s see the damage,” Roman insisted, reaching out to grab Virgil’s arm.

Virgil jerked back and Trixie was up in seconds, going straight into a Block between Virgil and Roman.

“Virgil?”

“I- uh-” the boy stuttered, “Uh, please don’t do that.”

“Do what?” Roman asked, a frown on his lips.

“Try and grab me.”

“I wasn’t. I was just trying to look at your arm,” Roman insisted.

Why had Virgil freaked so bad? He was just trying to help.

But this was what being around Virgil was always like. Roman was always walking on eggshells and never knew what to do. Virgil could just randomly go off and Roman wouldn’t know what was wrong. He would then feel terrible because he knew Virgil had PTSD, didn’t know the specifics, but it was obvious that he was affected by it. Roman was trying, he was, but he didn’t even know where to start.

“Just, please, don’t do that again?” Virgil asked.

Now that Virgil had told him, Roman wouldn’t do it. That wasn’t the problem. He was good at respecting Virgil’s boundaries now. The problem was that things always went this way. Roman would do something and it would set Virgil off and then he would just feel this crushing guilt. Then Virgil would tell him not to do it again and Roman would try not to but he didn’t even know what he did in the first place and Virgil never explained. Of course, he didn’t really expect Virgil to explain because that was unfair but it did make everything so much harder for Roman.

Roman hated messing up like this because he thought Virgil was maybe his friend now but how could they be when Roman could never get _anything_ right?

Instead of voicing any of these concerns, Roman just mumbled a simple, “Okay, I won’t,” and left it at that.

Virgil gave him a wary look and a nod, so Roman assumed he was in the clear.

“Just, can I see your arm?” he asked, “I want to make sure you’re okay.”

Virgil hesitated but nodded. He set the first aid supplies down and took to shucking off his jacket, exposing his arms. Arms that had scars littered across them like spiderwebs. Planned and coordinated, like little lines swirling and growing. Roman felt sick.

“The fuck,” Roman blurted out.

Virgil stiffened and brought his arms in close to his chest, jacket falling to the ground.

“Virgil- Virgil your _arms_ I-”

Roman had never seen anything like this. Sure there had been a kid in his high school who went around every day showing off two new lines to her classmates as if they were some sort of prize. But those had been two a day and had barely bled enough to be even called cuts. None of them left _scars_.

Virgil’s arms were _covered_. Most of them were small to medium sized, wrapping around the sides like mini white bracelets. Some were more faded than others and blended in better, but many were still stark and apparent against Virgil’s light skin.

The most shocking were the two long ones that stretched vertically. They were bumpy and raised and Roman had only seen them for a minute but he _had_ seen them. He had never seen them in person, had kind of thought they were a myth of the media. But he knew what they were.

A suicide attempt.

Virgil had tried to kill himself.

“I just told you I had a history with self-harm,” Virgil muttered meekly as Roman continued to stare. Not that there was much to stare at now that Virgil clutched his arms to his chest.

What was he supposed to do in this situation?

“Roman?”

It was the tone of voice that got through to him. Roman had heard Virgil happy, mad, angry, sad, scared. He might not have been friends with the boy long, but he had known him for a bit longer. He had seen Virgil in better and worse moods and learned the tones that went with each one.

But he had never heard the boy sound meek and small like this before.

Roman snapped out of it.

“Okay,” he said, to steady himself, “Okay. Let’s take a look at where you’re bleeding.”

Virgil didn’t move.

“Virge,” he pleaded.

The other boy relented and held his arm out. Roman took it gently and turned it so he could see the small marks near his elbow.

They were bleeding slightly, but Virgil hadn’t been kidding when he said that they were small. They were also clearly from his nails and didn’t seem intentional like the lines further down on his wrists.

Roman trusted that they had been an accident.

It made all of this a lot easier to deal with.

(He wouldn’t of known what to do if they hadn’t been an accident).

The blood had smeared a bit, presumably where it had soaked into the hoodie. Roman moved around to gather the needed supplies, Virgil trailed after Roman, and Trixie followed Virgil. A miniature congo line of disaster.

Roman grabbed a bottle of water from Virgil’s desk and found a Kleenex off to the side. He poured a bit of water onto the Kleenex and set to wiping away the blood.

When he had cleaned the small wound he took the band aid Virgil offered him and placed it on the scratch.

He did the entire procedure twice more. Once more on the arm he held now, and then again on the other.

When he was done, he released Virgil and threw away the trash.

“Thanks,” Virgil muttered. He pulled his arms back into him but didn’t replace his hoodie. Roman didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Virgil looked back up at him.

“Uh, you can- you can go now?” he half told, half asked, “Just please take the box with you.”

“No, yeah, I’ll take the box,” Roman confirmed. Now that he knew how could he not? “It’s just, Virgil, are you okay?”

“Fine,” he muttered, as he quickly turned away from Roman to put away the first aid supplies.

“Bullshit,” Roman declared loudly. Virgil flinched and dropped the kit. Trixie quickly pressed up against him. Roman made a note to lower his volume.

“I-” Virgil hesitated.

“Virgil we’re friends right?” Roman asked, “I mean, I think we are? I want to be? And friends help each other out, okay. I’m- I’m here for you, alright?”

Virgil turned around and met his eyes. Roman got the distinct feeling that he was looking for something, but he didn’t know what Virgil was looking for, or if he would find it.

Virgil eventually sighed and clutched his elbows. Trixie nosed his arms and he dropped them to his sides before picking up the first aid kit he had dropped.

“I- I’m having a tough time,” he admitted.

No shit.

But this was progress. This was Virgil opening up. Roman just had to figure out how to keep it going.

“How can I help?” he asked.

Virgil squeezed his eyes shut.

“You can’t,” he answered miserably.

“Bullshit,” Roman declared again, but quieter, “I might not be able to like, make you not want to hurt yourself. But I can help you. C’mon Charlie Frown, let me in. I’m here for you.”

Virgil burst into tears.

Roman blinked and took a step back. Whatever this reaction was, it was not one he was expecting. He was way out of his depth here.

He was always out of his depth with Virgil, _always_ saying the wrong things. Roman had always been a good dancer, but around Virgil he had two left feet and another in his mouth. He could _never_ say or do the right thing. _Ever_.

Maybe Virgil didn’t want to be his friend. Roman was pretty shit at it anyway.

Virgil continued to cry.

Roman tried to push down the self-doubt and loathing. It wasn’t the time for it. He was trying, and for now that would have to be enough. He refocused on Virgil.

“Hey, uh, Virgil, shit. Uh, hey it’s gonna be okay?”

Roman’s words seemed to be unheard or ignored as Virgil continued to crying. Roman didn’t know what to do.

Virgil’s crying continued to increase until he started choking on his breathe, his gulps of air becoming tiny frantic wheezes.

Trixie, who had been pawing at him for a while now, jumped up slightly to tap Virgil on his chest. He finally seemed to notice his dog and- lacking any sort of grace- collapsed to the floor. Trixie immediately covered him, performing what Roman thought Virgil had called ‘DPT.’

Roman just stood there, feeling absolutely helpless, but knowing at least enough to not interfere with Trixie’s work.

He stood there for what seemed like ages before Virgil got his breathing back under control. Roman couldn’t help but think that he was definitely missing his class today. He wasn’t going to be leaving Virgil like this.

As Virgil slowly began to be able to breathe again, Roman joined him on the floor, keeping a wide area of space between him and the other boy. He didn’t want to scare Virgil.

“Hey, Virge,” Roman murmured softly. The other boys eyes flickered up to his own as Virgil desperately wiped tears away from his eyes. “We don’t have to talk or anything, but is it okay if I stay with you for a while?”

“I’m fine,” Virgil muttered stiffly.

“You might be,” Roman agreed.

Virgil blinked, as if trying to compute the words Roman had just said.

“Yes,” he said slowly, “I’m fine. So you can leave.”

“If you really want me to, I’ll leave,” Roman said, “But I’d like to stay.”

Virgil played with his dogs fur and studied her carefully to avoid looking at Roman.

“Why?” he eventually asked.

“Why what?”

“Why do you want to stay?”

Roman gave a little frown and leaned forward from his seated position.

“Virgil- Well, like you said earlier, you’re having a bit of a rough time. And you might be fine. I get that. I’m not here to tell you that you’re not. But I _am_ your friend. Or at least I’m _trying_ to be your friend. And friend’s help each other out when the other’s not doing so well, right?”

Virgil’s eyes started to turn glassy again and he blinked to hold back tears. He continued to not face Roman.

“You don’t _have_ to stay,” Virgil said.

Now Roman got it. He hadn’t before, hadn’t understood why Virgil had been so evasive, so detached. Maybe there was more to it, maybe there was something else (there always was when it came to Virgil), but Roman understood this. He understood the stressed word. He understood the connotation behind it.

“Virgil,” Roman insisted, “I know I don’t have to stay. I _want_ to.”

Virgil hesitated, then nodded.

It didn’t fix anything. It certainly wouldn’t fix Virgil’s problems, nor would it fix Roman’s. But maybe it wasn’t the time to fix something. Maybe it was the time to build. Inshallah, Roman was going to succeed at building this friendship between Virgil and him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **In Depth TW: PTSD** (Virgil has PTSD and deals with its symptoms), **Intentional Self-Harm (past)** (Virgil used to self harm), **Unintentional Self-Harm** (Virgil unintentional and unknowingly scratches at his arms enough to bleed minimally), **RSD** (Roman struggles with RSD and intense feelings of inadequacy), **Sucide Attempt (past)** (Roman learns that Virgil has attempted suicide in the past), **Scars** (Virgil has scars from self harm and a suicide attempt), **Blood** (Virgil has small cuts that bleed. Roman at first believed the bleeding is much worse), **Islamphobia (mentioned)** (Roman remembers being called a terrorist for the religion he practices)
> 
> One more chapter. We can do this.  
~childoflightning
> 
> My tumblr is [thechildoflightning](https://thechildoflightning.tumblr.com/). Feel free to send in asks and prompts, keep updated, and see extra stuff involved with this series.


	4. Cotyledon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TW: Self-Harm (mentioned), PTSD, Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, Topics of Abuse and Sexual Assault (mentioned, does not happen/has never happened), Self-Worth Struggles, Shame, Mental Illness Stigma (discussed)**  
In Depth TW in End Notes

Roman may have now been dedicated to building his and Virgil’s friendship, but that didn’t mean it was easy.

The day after Virgil had told him about his history with self-harm, Virgil had insisted that he was fine and that Roman should go to his classes. Roman had been hesitant at first considering everything that went down the night before. But Virgil had promised he was going to be okay and that he would stay safe, and Roman was going to trust him on that. Virgil did, of course, still had him take the box.

It wasn’t for another week until Virgil asked for the box back. Roman texted an affirmative, and then showed up at his dorm with the box in his hand.

“Are you sure you can have this back?” Roman asked. He firmly held the box, not yet willing to hand it over.

“Yes Roman,” Virgil confirmed, “I’m doing a lot better. And anyway, I really need to shave.”

The comment startled a laugh out of Roman and the tension he had been carrying released. He hadn’t even realized he had been carrying tension in the first place.

“Fair enough,” Roman said, and he handed the box back over.

Virgil took it with a quite, “thanks,” and stepped back into his room. Roman thought that meant he was probably supposed to leave now, but before he could, Virgil was turning to look expectantly back at him. With a shrug, Roman entered the room.

Virgil set the box on his desk and turned back to Roman.

“Key?” he asked.

Roman didn’t move.

Virgil cocked his head.

“So, I might have forgotten the key,” Roman said slowly, “But I can go grab it right now.”

“You forgot the key to a box of dangerous to semi-dangerous items?” Virgil asked. He stared at Roman with an unreadable expression.

Great. Roman had messed up again. He had told Virgil he could watch over it and now Virgil wanted it back and he couldn’t even return all the pieces. Sure, the key was just back at his dorm but Virgil had asked him for a simple thing and Roman couldn’t do that. Now Roman was inconveniencing Virgil and dragging this whole thing on and why couldn’t he just get anything _right_?

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “I can go grab it.”

That’s when Virgil laughed. Roman withered, feeling humiliated at such a stupid mistake.

“Don’t worry about it,” Virgil said, “Totally something I would do. Did Patton ever tell you that we met because I locked myself out of my room?”

“You did?” Roman asked as he perked up slightly.

“Yep. And, as you know, I’m in a single. Meaning no roommate to let me in.”

Roman laughed at that, and the previous humiliation and tension fled.

“Yeah. Not my best moment,” Virgil admitted, “Now let’s go get that key?”

“Yeah,” Roman confirmed, and the two of them plus Trixie left Virgil’s dorm to head to Roman’s instead.

They were about half way there when Virgil brought up the subject.

“Hey, uh, thanks,” Virgil started, “I know, I know it was probably scary, or annoying, or just- I dunno. I know it’s not easy having someone tell you that they think about hurting themselves and then I put you in charge of the box and- Well I just wanted to say thanks, okay? You’re a good friend Roman, I appreciate it.”

Roman’s heart glowed a bit at the validation.

“Of course,” Roman confirmed, “I’m here to help the best that I can. Uh, like you said, you’re my friend. I care about you man. And I know I’ve been kinda doing a terrible job at that, but I am trying to learn and stuff. So thanks for giving me so many chances.”

“Wait, what?” Virgil asked. He came to a stop in the middle of the path and turned to face Roman, forcing him to stop as well. “What do you mean I’ve been giving you chances?”

Roman froze at that comment, because wasn’t it obvious? Roman kept fucking things up with Virgil. Sure, he was trying to get better but that didn’t mean he didn’t make mistakes. Mistakes that Virgil kept forgiving him for. Roman didn’t get why. If he was Virgil, he would of just kicked himself to the curb by now.

But Virgil still seemed to be expecting an explanation, so he gave it his best shot.

“Well I just- I mean I know you have PTSD now, and that helped me understand things a lot. But- I mean I keep fucking things up all the time. I say the wrong stuff at the wrong times or I do the wrong things when I should be doing something else. And like- that night we had movie night? And you said you didn’t want to watch _Cinderella_ and I just blew up? And completely invalidated everything you had been through without even considering your point of view…” he trailed off with a shrug.

“I just, I make a lot of mistakes,” he continued, “And you keep forgiving them and giving me extra chances. Which I really appreciate, because I really do want to be your friend I just can’t seem to do any of it right,” Roman attempted to explain. He thought he was maybe rambling, but he didn’t know a better way to explain the vast amount of mistakes and errors he had made over time. How _else_ could he explain it?

“Roman,” Virgil said, and then again, “Roman. What the hell?”

Roman hung his head and moved to continue walking. Maybe Virgil hadn’t realized all of his mistakes before. Now that Roman had laid them all out plainly, Virgil was sure to get rid of him.

He walked forward, leaving Virgil behind. He’d just get back to his dorm, get the key for Virgil, and then they never had to talk again.

Virgil raced forward a little bit to catch up, eventually matching strides with Roman once more.

“Roman, that movie night was two _months_ ago.”

“I know. Doesn’t make it okay. Especially considering I haven’t really improved.”

“No- that’s not what I- okay we’re addressing that next. No, I meant, have you really been thinking about that night for two _months_?”

“Yes,” Roman answered easily, because of course he had been thinking about it. He had made hurtful assumptions and been an ass and he had failed at being a good friend. What else was he going to do? Forgive himself?

“That’s- Roman you apologized for that. And I accepted. Because you meant it. It was obvious that you meant it. You felt horrible.”

“I do.”

“Still do?”

“Yeah,” Roman answered swiftly as he approached the entrance to his dorm building. He swiped his ID on the entrance and then grabbed the door to let both Virgil and him in. They both fell quiet for a minute, neither wanting to discuss the topic when the semi-crowded common room could overhear.

When they swung down the right hall, Virgil spoke again.

“Roman- I- I mean I don’t know how to not make you feel about it. But I do want you to know that you don’t have to feel bad about it. You apologized. I accepted. People make mistakes. We both did that night. We’ve moved on.”

That was thing- Roman hadn’t moved on. He wasn’t sure how to.

“What do you mean you made mistakes,” Roman scoffed, “I was in the wrong that night.”

“Okay, okay yeah, you were, but I could've done things differently. I never took the time to explain the things that made me uncomfortable or explain that we had a system running to show that. And instead of storming out, I could’ve tried to discuss more productively. I just- well you grabbed my shoulder and that’s one of my triggers.”

“Right,” Roman said automatically, “I’m sorry about that by the way.” He grabbed his ID again to open his dorm's door. His dorm building was newer than Virgil’s, meaning that he could use his ID to open the doors instead of old keys.

Virgil let out a frustrated huff from behind him just as Roman opened the door.

“You don’t need to be sorry Roman, you already apologized for that. Two months ago.”

Roman ignored him, going straight to the computer draw on his desk and grabbing the key that lay on it. He held it out triumphantly to Virgil. Virgil took it and Roman turned to leave the room.

“No- Roman, can we, can we sit for a moment? And talk? I want to figure this out.”

Roman shrugged but did as requested, feeling a bit self-conscious. He had _obviously_ done something wrong but he wasn’t really sure what this time. (He was never sure).

“I mean, I don’t think there’s much to figure out.” Roman shrugged. “I just wanted to thank you for giving me so many chances.”

“Yeah, but see, that’s the thing I’m confused about,” Virgil insisted, “I still don’t get what you mean by that.”

“Like I said- I keep messing up and you keep giving me chances.”

“What do you mean by ‘messing up?’”

Roman groaned and scrubbed a hand over his face.

“Now we’re just going in circles,” Roman insisted, “Like I said, I keep on doing things that make you uncomfortable and-”

“Okay, you do realize how genuinely impossible it is to make me not uncomfortable, right?” Virgil insisted. “So many things people do make me uncomfortable.”

“Yeah,” Roman said, “But I can change a lot of those things to make you more comfortable.”

“Yeah, you can,” Virgil agreed, “and you’re doing that.”

Which yeah, Roman was doing that. He just didn’t think he was doing very well at it. He voiced as much to Virgil.

“Roman, we’ve been friends for just a few months. You’re not going to be perfect at all of this in that short of time. It’s okay. Look- even when we’ve been friends for a long time, I still understand that there’s going to be moments where I could still freak out. I have PTSD, and it affects my life pretty severely. I’m constantly learning to manage it and I have Trixie to help, but even so it’s still going to impact my life.”

Roman could maybe get that.

Virgil hesitated and spoke again, “I know that I haven’t been super open about my PTSD and that probably makes it hard to understand and work around. I don’t fault you for slipping up or unintentionally triggering me when you didn’t even _know_ that it was something that could trigger me. And the times where that has happened you’ve been amazing about learning from it and correcting what you can. Roman you’re- ever since that one movie night you’ve been amazing at it.”

That warmed Roman’s heart a bit and he started to maybe feel like he wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe Virgil was right. Maybe Roman was doing his best, and it seemed like his best wasn’t half bad.

At that same time there was that little voice in Roman’s head that was constantly screaming ‘failure.’

“I- thanks,” Roman said, “But, like, I don't- you don’t need to explain your PTSD to me, I don’t want you to feel like you have to. I mean, some, some better boundary explanations would be helpful maybe but I get that you were in a bad relationship or situation or something of-”

“Wait what? Relationship?” Virgil asked, looking completely lost. Roman gave him a look. Was Virgil really going to make Roman spell this out?

“Yeah,” Roman gulped, “Uh, I mean that night out on the lawn? When that guy was trying shit with me? And you stepped in? I mean you don’t have to explain anything but I got that you had, y’know, been in a situation like that before.”

“Oh. Oh!” Virgil said, eyes widening in realization, “Oh shit. You thought- You- Okay yeah, _no_. Roman I wasn’t in an abusive relationship or sexually assaulted or anything like that.”

“You weren’t?” Roman blurted out before he could stop himself. He immediately reprimanded himself for being insensitive.

“Uh,” Virgil stuttered. He seemed to think, and in the process, dug his nails into his arm. Roman caught sight of the action, now much more aware of it after patching Virgil up earlier that week. Before Virgil could do any harm, Trixie nudged his arms apart.

“Okay, so,” Virgil started, “I- Okay. I uh have PTSD because I was kidnapped by a cult as a kid. I lived with them for seven years. That’s- yeah, that’s all I’m gonna go into for now.”

Roman’s mind froze. Virgil had been _what_? Roman had _not_ been expecting _that_. Even more odd, now that he had heard it, it sounded startling familiar.

“Uh, any chance you're from Utah? Because I’m pretty sure there was an exact case like this a little more than five years ago,” Roman mentioned, because he had absolutely no brain to mouth filter.

“Yeah. That was me.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

Roman vaguely remembered something about kidnappings and deaths and rituals involving dissecting humans, sometimes live. Most of all, he remembered the story of a child not much older than him who had almost died after being stranded for days in a cellar. Before he could learn any more, his dads turned the news off.

“I’m sorry,” Roman said immediately, “I keep- I keep making assumptions and they keep hurting you and I’m- I’m sorry I didn’t mean to make you talk about this if you didn’t want to. But because I keep- I just- I keep putting you in positions where I make you and-”

“Roman, you’re not making me do anything I don’t want to,” Virgil interrupted, “Look, I know I’ve been vague as hell. I don’t fault you for making what are some pretty reasonable assumptions.”

Roman shifted uncomfortably. That was- well that was fair and Virgil had a good point. But Roman still felt miserable.

“But I could of approached some things differently,” Roman insisted.

“Are we talking about the movie night two months ago?” Virgil asked.

“Yeah,” Roman responded meekly.

“Okay, Roman, yeah, yeah you probably could have approached that differently. But there’s no telling if I would have responded perfectly in that situation either. Again, we both made mistakes, and it’s in the past now. I- You’ve gotta forgive yourself for that Roman.”

Why did Virgil have such good points? It made it a lot harder for Roman to stay mad at himself.

“Okay,” Roman replied, because what else could he say? “Yeah I can try.”

“Yeah?” Virgil replied. A faint smile started to cross his face.

“Yeah,” Roman confirmed, even though Roman had no idea how he was even supposed to start the process of forgiving himself.

“Awesome,” Virgil said, “And I can try to be clearer with boundaries and stuff. I know it’s probably been really confusing on your end, and a good part of that is on me. I- It’s still really hard for me to talk about a lot of this and- and I’m not really used to people being super supportive and the three of you are like my first friends ev- and I’m working on being more open and stuff.”

“Okay.”

“But just- Roman, I want to make sure that you realize that you’re a really good friend.”

Roman just snorted in response. Virgil may have had a lot of good points, but this last one had no chance of being true.

“I’m serious,” Virgil insisted. “Like, that night with the movie in the quad? I- That was the worst flashback I’ve had in a long time. I- You really helped me and you- Roman most people don’t do that.”

“I had to call Logan,” he protested.

“So?” Virgil responded, “You’re acting like that's a bad thing. You didn’t know what to do in a situation and so you asked for help. That’s a strength, not a weakness.”

That was a new thought. Roman had never looked at it that way. He had never thought that asking for help was actually a thing that made him strong, instead always seen it as a weakness, a personal failure. But maybe to Virgil’s point, asking for help was the best thing Roman could of done for Virgil in that situation. Roman had done a genuinely good thing that helped Virgil, all by just asking for support.

“I just _feel_ like I’ve been a bad friend.”

Virgil sighed, “Yeah, I realize that. And- well I mean I don’t know how to change that mindset for you, I can’t change what you feel, but I can try to positively reinforce the things you are doing well. I haven’t done a great job at that, so it isn’t surprising you’re only seeing me respond negatively,” Virgil paused and his tone shifted from something more sure to slightly hesitant. “Would, do you think that would help?”

It sounded so childish. Positive reinforcement? What was he, 12? Roman didn't need reassurance or affirmation that he was doing things well. He was an _adult_, he shouldn’t need things like validation. He should be able to do all of this himself.

But he couldn’t. It was _obvious_ that he couldn’t. (_Why_ couldn’t he?)

“I’m not a little kid Virgil. I don’t need you to cheer me on for the littlest things,” Roman grumbled. He felt almost a bit insulted at the idea that Virgil thought he needed validation. Did Virgil really think that he was _that_ immature?

“Positive reinforcement is really important y’know. For adults too- not just kids. It increases morale, productivity, and positive repeated behavior. I’m sure Patton could explain the science behind it, I can just give the overall psych view of recognition makes you feel seen which makes you feel validated which is a strong- generally positive- emotion that can help encourage healthy behavior and thought.”

Roman gritted his teeth. Once more Virgil was making so much sense but how could Roman begin to believe any of this? Because believing this meant that Roman had been doing everything wrong this entire time. He’d usually default to feeling like a failure in these situations, but he couldn’t even do that because apparently he was supposed to be forgiving himself? What kind of person?

“So… positive reinforcement? Yay or nay?” Virgil asked.

Roman knew his answer. The issue was admitting it.

“Yes,” he said after mustering his courage.

“Okay,” Virgil said, “We can work with that. Hey uh, Roman? How are you feeling?”

Roman’s brain was buzzing, working overtime. There was a weight in his bones and an exhaustion that seeped everywhere.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

Virgil shifted and looked away. His hand fell to pet his dog a few times.

“Uh- how do you feel about the whole ‘you actually are a good friend’ thing? Are you- did this help at all?”

That was a good question. How _did_ Roman feel about it?

“I’m not sure,” he said honestly, “It’s- It’s a lot to take in. A whole different mindset, y’know. But I think- I mean. I don’t- jeez this sounds so _stupid_-”

“It’s not stupid,” Virgil replied automatically. Roman gave a nod in recognition to his words.

“I guess- it’s a new perspective. And I’m not- I’m not sure I believe it yet. But I also think I want to believe it. And it makes sense. A lot of things you said make a lot of sense.”

“Y’know our campus has some pretty good mental health services,” Virgil approached gently, “I- It doesn’t hurt to just talk to someone for even ten minutes y’know? You don’t actually have to be mentally ill or anything. Tons of people go when they're just stressed out about exams or stuff.”

Roman stiffened immediately, but he wasn’t quite sure why. He recognized the importance of mental health and erasing the negative stigma around mental illness. He was all for people getting help if they were struggling with anything related to their mental health. Roman had been raised that way and had seen both his siblings struggle with issues both short and long term. He knew that if he ever needed help, he had his family’s support.

Roman just didn’t think he’d ever need the help. (Because was that what this was? Issues with his mental health?)

Roman also believed and knew that if you struggled with your mental health you should get help, just like with any other health issue. But for some reason it was hard to apply it to himself. Because was he really doing _that_ poorly? Was it worth it to take up other people’s time and space when he should just be _fine_?

It was in that moment that for the first time in maybe forever, Roman recognized the errors in his thinking.

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll check it out. Thanks,” Roman answered. It was forced through gritted teeth, but entirely truthfully, which was the important part.

Virgil gave him a smile, and the mood in the room shifted. Without saying anything, the two of them decided that the conversation was over and it was time to move on.

“Well, again, I need to shave. Badly. But if you come with we can do something after? All my classes are over for the day, and if I remember correctly, so are yours,” Virgil said to shift the topic, holding up the key Roman had handed over earlier.

“Sure, yeah, sounds good,” Roman replied, “But yeah, you should definitely shave first. Not a good look on you.”

“Wow, thanks,” Virgil bit sarcastically, and the two left the room.

A week later Roman made his way to the mental health services on campus. In the space of two months he talked to someone three different times, discussing the intense feeling of inadequacy and failure that seemed to stick with him whenever he did something that he even perceived as a mistake.

There ended up being no easy answer to learning to forgive himself, which Roman hadn’t been expecting (but was admittedly wishing for).

He wasn’t sure if he’d ever stop feeling this way. But maybe he could work on managing it better. At the very least, he had Virgil at his side. Virgil- Virgil was a pretty good friend. And if Roman thought Virgil was a good friend and Virgil thought _Roman_ was a good friend, well maybe Virgil was telling the truth. Maybe Roman could even slowly start to believe it himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **In Depth TW: Self-Harm (mentioned)** (Virgil has self-harmed in the past and is currenty feeling urges to self-harm), **PTSD** (Virgil has PTSD and deals with its symptoms), **Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria** (Roman struggles with RSD, even if he’s unaware that’s what it is), **Topics of Abuse and Sexual Assault (mentioned, does not happen/has never happened)** (Roman is under the belief that Virgil has PTSD due to an abusive/unconsential relationship/sexual experience. This is refuted by Virgil), **Self-Worth Struggles** (both Virgil and Roman struggle with self worth), **Shame** (Roman struggles with feelings of shame), **Mental Illness Stigma (discussed)** (Roman recognizes the continued stigma around mental illness)
> 
> Gosh what a ride, and here we are at the end. I hope all of you enjoyed, and thanks for sticking with me.  
~childoflightning
> 
> My tumblr is [thechildoflightning](https://thechildoflightning.tumblr.com/). Feel free to send in asks and prompts, keep updated, and see extra stuff involved with this series.


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